In the Rain
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: It wasn't supposed to rain tonight. She had checked the weather and dressed appropriately. She'd check repeatedly, actually, because in the face of her nervousness, it had kept her sane. Her stomach had been filled with butterflies for a full forty-eight hours before Oliver arrived on her doorstep. **Set post season 4**


Summary: It wasn't supposed to rain tonight. She had checked the weather and dressed appropriately. She'd check repeatedly, actually, because in the face of her nervousness, it had kept her sane. Her stomach had been filled with butterflies for a full forty-eight hours before Oliver arrived on her doorstep. **Set post season 4**

A/N: Just a little random thing that I wrote…

 **In the Rain**

Felicity huddles closer to Oliver as rain pours down on them, soaking into their hair and clothes.

It wasn't supposed to rain tonight. She had checked the weather and dressed appropriately. She'd check repeatedly, actually, because in the face of her nervousness, it had kept her sane. Her stomach had been filled with butterflies for a full forty-eight hours before Oliver arrived on her doorstep.

She peeks up at him through a curtain of sodden hair. His arm is around her shoulders in an attempt to shield her from the rain and his chin is tucked to his chest. A small scowl adorns his face and for some strange reason the look causes a bubble of giddiness to erupt out of her. She can't bite back her giggles and the sound draws Oliver's attention. They stop together in the middle of the sidewalk, angling their bodies so that they are facing one another.

"This is funny?" he asks, his scowl quickly morphing into a smile that lights his eyes.

She nods, "Kind of."

Oliver tips his head back and blinks up at the sky. Drops of water roll off of his strong jaw and slide along the length of his neck. Those butterflies in her belly return with a vengeance.

He shakes his head, sending droplets flying, and leans down to touch his forehead to hers. She feels his warm breath on her face when he sighs softly. He smells like coffee and chocolate and she knows that if he kisses her, she'll get another taste of the dessert that they'd shared.

It's their second first date. They've spent months apart but essentially together, always working alongside one another, and trying desperately not let the tension that exists between them smother them. They've slowly made their way back to each other. They spent all summer dancing around this thing between them because it is a thing and it's always been there. She's trusted him from their first meeting even through lies about bullet-riddled laptops and energy drinks in syringes. There has been an integral connection between them from the beginning and even though their first attempt at something more had ended, it's still there. She still loves him.

"You're going to get sick if we stay out here."

Felicity snorts, "And you won't, Mr. Mayor?"

Oliver shakes his head, his forehead rolling against hers.

"I don't get sick."

Her arms go around his waist beneath his jacket and she presses herself into his chest. It's the first time that she's allowed herself to get this close since the night she'd hugged him when they'd taken down Darkh. She's missed the feel of his hard chest beneath her cheek and the spicy scent of his soap and the natural warmth that he exudes.

"We really should go inside," Oliver tells her but she figures he doesn't really mean it as he wraps her up in his arms and presses his face to her shoulder.

"In a minute."

She's too comfortable. Too happy. The date had gone really well. No one had tried to blow them up. They made it through their entire meal without an emergency, whether a mayoral one or one of the Green Arrow variety, and she's extremely grateful. They both needed a night to themselves, a night that was solely about them and the relationship that they were both so desperate to repair. And she was. Desperate. Because even though Oliver had hurt her and broken her trust, he's spent five months showing her that he is still the same man that she'd fallen in love with. He's shown her that he is the man that she deserves, that she wants. And he's done it without once pushing her. It had taken a very long and emotional conversation with her mother for her to realize that she was ready to give them another chance.

After a long moment she steps back and laces her fingers through his, turning and leading him up the street to the loft.

When they reach the building, Oliver backs her into a little alcove near the door. He swoops in, kissing her with a ferocity that makes her toes curl. It is a kiss full of need and promise and she wants nothing more than to drag him up the stairs and into her bed.

Oliver has other ideas. He steps back, putting a healthy distance between them, and Felicity whimpers at the loss of contact. Her lips are tingly, her cheeks warm.

She moves toward him and pauses when he shakes his head.

He licks his lips – an action that her eyes follow greedily – and swallows thickly.

"I should go."

His voice is hoarse, the gravelly quality sending a shock of recognition through her. God, she wants him.

"Stay."

He smiles but shakes his head again. He takes pity on her, holding out his hand – which she gladly accepts – and tugs her back into his arms. She hugs him tightly.

"Not tonight," he says softly, "We agreed to go slow, remember?"

She huffs but says nothing. Slow had been her idea. She regrets it already.

"Slow means more dates. Dinners and movies. Coffee and ice cream. It means holding your hand and kissing you goodnight at your front door. We're supposed to be getting to know each other again. And I know you well enough to know that if I spend the night with you tonight, you'll regret it in the morning."

Tears fill her eyes at his unexpected tenderness. He's right, of course. Her emotions are all over the place tonight because she wants so badly for things to go back to the way that they were. She wants to fall asleep to the sound of his heart beating in her ear and wake up to the comforting weight of him wrapped around her. But they need to work their way back to that. She knows that they're not there yet.

He cups her face in his hands and presses one last, lingering kiss to her lips.

"Goodnight, Felicity."

She grins, "Goodnight, Oliver."

He pulls the collar of his jacket up before jogging down the stairs and out into the rain again.

"Oliver!"

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and turns back to her.

"I love you!"

A wide smile splits his face and it makes her heart feel lighter than it has in months.

"I love you, too!"

He winks at her – the bastard – before sprinting away as the night sky continues to soak the streets.


End file.
